The Many Perspectives in Lordran
by The Holt
Summary: Have you ever wondered what some characters were doing before you met them and how they got into their situation? Of course you have! Don't be silly. This covers the before and after, with some of my own tweaks. Enjoy :)


**A/N: Hello! I am finally writing the first chapter to my own Dark Souls Fan-fiction, 'The Many Perspectives in Lordran' and as always, I'm welcome to reviews from you guys XD Oh yeah and I will probably continue the story with a new character every one or two chapters, so enjoy!**

**(The Holt)**

…

"_Thou who art undead art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of the ancient Lords. When thou ringeth the bell of awakening, the fate of the undead thou shalt know."_

Those were the words that tormented my head as I sat there in my cell. It probably couldn't get any more boring than this; sitting around doing nothing for all eternity in a cell, just waiting to lose my sanity and go hollow. The only good thing about this was the fact that I still had my Elite knight armour (+6), Astora's straight sword (+3) and my crest shield (+5), leaving the perfect opportunity for me escape and kick-start my quest of honour, destiny and awesomeness.

The hollowed guard who had been pacing back and forth in front of my cell only now decided to have a rest on the cell door with his back to me. Big mistake knave, now its time to spring my trap! I slowly got up and began sneaking towards the fool, who I then proceeded to backstab through the rusted bars. He collapsed to the ground with a moan of complete stupidity, probably signalling that he was dead.

With that I reached through the bars to grab the cell key, but for some reason it wouldn't come off the dead hollow, so I had to drag his rotting body (which kept helicoptering due to the bizarre game physics) up the door until I could actually get the key in the lock. As I turned the key, the body went into spasms and slapped my helmet twice, leaving my ears ringing and my temper almost at its limit.

Finally, I unlocked the door and kicked the body out of the way, then stood with my sword and shield drawn, looking ever the triumphant hero. It was about this time that I picked up the dead undead ragdoll and said to myself… "What in the Lost Izalith do I do _now_?"

As usual, I found myself on the roof, carrying a corpse that removed its own clothing during a physics spasm. I was walking carefully with the corpse hanging over my shoulder, trying to avoid unwanted attention when I spotted a hole in the roof further ahead. '_Finally! Now I can dump this body!'_

I quickly walked to the hole and threw the body in. Then I noticed a strange fellow set up in pyromancer rags sitting in the corner. We both stared at each other uncomfortably. I didn't know what to do so I got up and left without a word, probably looked like a retard in shining armour and yet it still felt as if I was supposed to dump the body there for some reason…

As I was pondering the existence of a higher power, a large water droplet splattered upon my visor. Shocked at the size of the droplet, I looked up, only to see the most hideous, hugely obese slobbering creature. It could only be…YOUR MOTHE…I mean…THE ASYLUM DEMON! Suddenly, I sprang into action, running forward a little only to stop and begin a panicked hyperventilation about what to do. It was at that moment I saw the Demon bringing its huge club up above its head in an attempt to crush me. '_Raise your shield you fool!'_ one of my instincts yelled, whilst another screamed '_Do a barrel roll!' _ Naturally I selected the option that would look cooler, so I threw myself sideways, only to get smashed by the Demon's hammer right through three levels of the asylum, breaking every bone in my body and then landing on some nice soft bricks. How typical.

Shortly after I landed in the sealed room, a large metal ball rolled through the wall to my right, where a much livelier looking pyromancer emerged from the rubble. When he spotted me, a large grin lit up his face. "Hey, its you! Thank you for freeing me from my prison cell!" '_Yeah…that's exactly what I meant to do…'_

"Oh, your hurt! Do you need a hand sir…um…"

"Knight Oscar of Astora at your service, but listen, I've failed my mission and I'll need you to continue it, seeing that I wont be going anywhere soon…"

"Oh, a mission eh? What kind of mission?"

I rolled my eyes beneath my visor, yet still began reciting the legend of the chosen undead. Afterwards, the pyro looked at me as if contemplating the existence of a higher power, then he nodded his head. "I'll do it."

I looked at him and then decided he probably would need five of my Estus flasks more than I would, and the key to the next door which I somehow had in my satchel. After handing the flasks and the key to him, he was off, leaving me lying on my comfortable bricks.

After a few minutes of agonising silence, I heard the roar of the defeated Asylum Demon, then the huge door I saw from the roof begin its noisy opening, I knew it was clear, so I pulled out my spare Estus flasks and began to chug them.

I am not leaving the fate of the undead to someone like that pyromancer, and I sure won't let him fulfil my destiny no matter what!

…

**Thanks for reading my first chapter! Please leave a review since I'm open to all opinions. :D**

**The next chapter is going to be written in the Pyro's perspective, so stay with me!**


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